Ultimate Spazz Out
by remonrime
Summary: Tweek spends the night at Craig's house. Ordered to sleep on the floor, Tweek hears things running around the room. He completely spazzes out. One-shot. LOTS OF CURSING. Creek.


**A/N: I was high when writing this.**

* * *

"'Night, Tweek."

"Wha – already?!" I cried, stumbling after Craig as he retreated down the hallway where he made a sharp turn and disappeared into his room. I followed after him chaotically, constantly beading my eyes this way and that and nearly tripping over my own two feet as I tried desperately to keep up. I hated long hallways – they always looked so creepy looking, especially if you tried to peer across to the far end. Shit, don't think of _The Shining._

"B-but, but it's early!" I shouted, finally arriving at his bedroom door. I took one final glance down the hallway, shivered, and stepped inside.

"Shut it and lock it," Craig commanded over his shoulder while shuffling towards his bed. I stilled and looked up at him, fingers twiddling with each other.

"My mouth?!" I asked meekly, placing my hands to my throat. The pads of my fingers traced down the line of my Adam's apple, shuddering slightly at the idea of having my mouth sealed. I piqued my head when I heard a breathy sigh in front of me. I watched as Craig sluggishly looked over his shoulder, eyes slanted in what appeared to be the beginnings of vexation. Surprisingly, I didn't flinch this time. Usually when he gave me that look it always frightened me to some degree, and though I was supposed to be used to that expression by now, I could never really get over that mix of perpetual fear it instilled in me, even if it was a look he often gave me. It was a funny thing really, because I don't think I've ever seen an expression besides irritation on his face when around me. I hunched my shoulders and scraped the front of my teeth against the inside of my cheek. Was that a bad thing?

"No, spaz, I meant the door," he said slowly, his tone anything but jovial. He sighed again before throwing himself across the rather large expanse of his bed (king sized, lucky bastard) and grabbed for his pillow.

"Oh, right," I whispered, spinning around. I quickly shut the door and turned the lock until I heard it click in place.

"Good, now turn off the light and go to bed," Craig commanded, his voice muffled. Apparently while I wasn't looking, he had flipped himself around so that his belly was facing the ceiling, his pillow nestled comfortably over his face. He looked sort of silly like that, but I wasn't one to comment. Craig would often comment on my state of dress without mercy, due to the fact that whenever I got up in the morning, I was too jittery and spazztic to fasten my clothes properly.

"Argh! But it's too early!" I protested, bringing my shaking fingers to my chest. Whenever I got too nervous for my liking, I always had to busy my fingers with something, whether it be a piece of lone string from my clothing or pulling frantically at the ends of my hair.

"So," Craig countered, his voice still muffled by the pillow. I gulped and looked around the room, trying to think up of a good counter argument.

"Umm," I mumbled, my fingers fidgeting with the top button of my shirt. "Well, it's . . . ngh! Too much pressure man! You can't expect me to come up with something so fast -- !!"

Craig whipped off his pillow and shot straight up, his eyes narrow and sharp like the spindled side of a knife. He was leaning back on the palms of his hands, his long legs jutting out over the edge of the bed.  
I still stood across from him, my body trembling under his intense glare. God, I hated when he did that. You could only feel so powerless. . .

"Well, where am I gonna' sleep?" I asked hesitantly, my fingers clutching at the front of my shirt. It had a picture of a coffee mug on it, no surprise there.

"On the floor, where else?" he stated matter-of-factly, rolling his eyes to complete the effect. My left eye twitched at that.

"Oh. But then, don't I need a blanket or something?" I probed further, my voice growing weaker. I hated asking so many questions, no matter who the person was; it wasn't in my nature to do so.

Craig was still leaning back on his hands, his fingers now tapping aimlessly along the surface of the mattress. I scooted away and managed to drag my eyes away from his probing hazel ones, instead anchoring them on the blue cage of Stripe Jr. the Second. I narrowed my eyes at the cage subconsciously, gritting my teeth as I mildly seethed inside. It always irked me how Craig payed more attention to that blasted guinea pig than me, his best friend, and I really had no idea why I was getting jealous over a stupid guinea pig to begin with, but hey, that's how life worked sometimes – no matter how ridiculously retarded and shitty it was.

"Blankets are on the top shelf, pillows on the bottom. Closet. Go." Craig directed in a single breath. I nodded shakily at him and scuttled towards the closet to my left. I opened the door and reached up for a jade green blanket nestled at the top, and once done with that I grabbed a medium sized pillow from the bottom shelf. With blanket and pillow tucked snugly under each arm, I twirled around and closed the closet door with the heel of my foot.

I waddled like an awkward penguin until I reached the foot of Craig's bed, where I dumped the extra blanket and pillow. Craig picked his head up and looked wryly over at me, his face skewed into a hollow void, as usual.

"Dude. You're sleeping on the floor, remember?" Craig stated condescendingly. He arched a perfect black eyebrow while his hand swiped at the ebony tufts of hair sticking out the front of his patterned Peruvian hat.

"Oh -argh- I forgot! Sorry, sorry!" I apologized, quickly swiping the blanket and pillow into my arms. I scuttled around his bed until I found a suitable place to lie my things. It was directly in front of his small bedside drawer and I'd also be sleeping parallel to his bed. I sighed as I planted my knees to the carpeted floor, jeans rubbing against my kneecaps. I grabbed the pillow and propped it in place, running my hands over it and smoothing any wrinkles away. I then grabbed for the blanket and unrolled it, pulling at the bottom corners until the entire blanket evened out and was spread across the floor like a make-shift sleeping bag. I sat back on the balls of my heels and rested my hands in the pool of my lap, sneaking a small, yet courageous glance out the corner of my eye.

I nearly bugged out when I found Craig staring intently at me, his mouth set in a thin line. I gulped and turned to him, my right eye starting to twitch.

"W-what?" I murmured while tugging at a messy strand of pale blond hair.

"Turn the light off," he merely said and laid back down.

* * *

I couldn't sleep.

It was as simple as that – I couldn't freaking sleep! How could I when I was lying on a flat and uncomfortable floor where I could peer into every crack and crevice in the universe?! There was the underside of Craig's bed, or the dark void underneath each wooden drawer situated in his room. What if I saw something crawl out from underneath, or worse, a pair of glowing red eyes?!

"Nngh!" I spazzed, clutching the single blanket tighter to my chest. Suddenly I felt a swell of anger at my slumbering friend above me, imagining how he was sleeping so peacefully without worry or fret while I was down on the floor freaking-the-fuck-out. This wasn't fair! Whenever he slept over at my house, I'd let him sleep anywhere he wanted, even on my own bed! Actually, sometimes he'd hog the bed and I'd be forced to sleep on the couch downstairs. Alone. In the dark. Where kidnappers could easily break in and rape me repeatedly until -- .

"Agh! I'm flipping out!" I hissed at myself, fingernails gouging into the blanket. "I need to stay calm. I need to stop thinking. I need some coffee. I really, really need some coffee."

And that's when I heard the giggling. And the faint pitter-patter of shoes on the carpet.

I jerked with a start, banging my head against Craig's bedside drawer. I whimpered out in pain, rubbing profusely at the aching bruise hidden in the wild tangles of my hair.

_Tee hee. Tee hee. Tee, tee, tee. Hee hee!_

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy **shit, shit, shit**," I breathed through gritted teeth. I shot straight up and wrapped the blanket around myself (I think I looked like a burrito at this point), slamming my back against Craig's mattress. Pulling my knees to my chest, I forced myself to scan the premise of Craig's room, ears alert to any kind of foreign sound.

_Tee hee!_

_Pit-pat._

_Giggle!_

"Fuck this shit!!" I screamed, jumping up from my position seated on the floor. Unfortunately, being wrapped up like a burrito would literally be my downfall.

I fell. Hard.

I landed face first against the carpeted floor, my chin sporting most of the impact. My teeth rattled against my jaw and a terrible stinging pain shot up the sides of my face like an electric shock. I think my eyes started watering, but I was too terrified to wipe them away or even care for that matter. After the initial pain wore off, I managed to unwrap myself from the blanket and I ran to the other side  
of Craig's bed, throwing myself on it like a sky-diver.

"Tweek. What the fuck?!" Craig's weary voice hissed out. I scooted over to him and pressed my arms against my chest, my body starting to tremble. Craig turned over and shot me a tired glare, his eyes droopy and laced with dark shadows. He kind of reminded me of a panda, a very sad panda.

"You're supposed to be on the floor!" he whispered harshly, rubbing at the corners of his eyes. His messy mop of raven hair was scattered and mussed about his face like a ravaged flower. It would have been nice to pay attention to detail but I was too freaked out to care about anything else. There was something running loose in his room, and I wanted to know what-the-fuck it was.

"Craig! Craig, holy shit, Craig!" I began, piquing my head to peer over the bed. I couldn't see anything, but I just knew something was out there. I shivered.

"I'm right next to you!" Craig shouted back, his eyes murderous. "What the fuck do you think you're doing shouting like that and shit? Fuck, you can wake up Kyle's dead grandma with your voice!"

At this point in time, I would have shut up and started fearing for my life, because an angry Craig wasn't a very pleasant Craig to be around. However, screwing that premise, I was too hopped up on my own adrenaline to care if he was fuming mad. I scooted closer to him, my hand cupping his ear. He visibly stilled, or at least what I could see in the little light that I had, and his shoulders tensed.

"There's something out there," I whispered, my hand shaking. I withdrew from him and sat up, looking down at his still form with worrying eyes. I bit at my lip and started tugging at my hair, both eyes twitching like mad.

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Craig asked hoarsely, finally following suit and sitting up. He brushed his fingers through his hair, shifting away shaggy bangs that nearly fell over his eyes. "Look, spazzoid, I'm really tired. I was busy all day planning a prank war against Cartman and his fellow douche bags, and I'm tired. Really tired. **I. Want. To. Go. To. Bed.**"

"For real! There's something -_nngh!_- out there! In your room! I heard it!" I whispered, a wave of fear cresting over my body. I leaned towards him, arms still pasted to my chest. "While I was sleeping down there I heard giggling, and feet, like somebody was running across the room. Shit -argh!- I'm so scared right now!"

Craig just stared at me, eyes blinking and his face never wavering, no matter how tired or exhausted he was. "Tweek, you're officially retarded. It's stuff like this that makes me want to snap and pummel you sometimes, but I can't."

"No, no, no! Please! Stay up with me, I don't think I can take this right now! Agh!" I pleaded fretfully, nails digging into my shirt. "Please, please, please, please, please. It's just -- I heard them, clearly! And I don't want to sleep, because if I'm asleep they'll attack, and when that shit hits the fan, we're doomed. We're going to be totally fucked, fucked right up the ass, fucked like you haven't been fucked -- !!!"

Craig's hand over my mouth shut me up pretty good, but it didn't stop the wave of panic hurdling over me like a series of pummeling waves. It was like I was constantly being fed electric shocks, each shock jolting my body to the point that I was trembling so badly I thought I would surely break into pieces. Craig's hand traveled lower and soon his other hand joined along until he had both palms pressed tightly at the sides of my shoulders, rubbing in an up-and-down motion.

"Calm the fuck down," he whispered softly, his tone still carrying faint traces of irritation. "Fine, you can sleep here, but this'll be the only time. Tell your little rainbow-pixies to shut the fuck up so you can get to bed. We cool?"

I nodded eagerly, believing in his two-sense, because anything Craig said or did was official, and hell it even sounded official. Official to the point that I thought he was the god damn CIA or something, and I'd do anything to make everything sane again -- to calm me down.

However, all that flew out my ass when I peered over Craig's shoulder and saw one of them smiling at me.

* * *

**A/N: Well shit.**


End file.
